


Scarlett

by Karieauthoress (ksrandomme), ksrandomme



Category: The Sentinel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksrandomme/pseuds/Karieauthoress, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksrandomme/pseuds/ksrandomme





	Scarlett

It was the steady dripping of water that woke the young man from his sleep. Blinking his eyes, he turned his head unsteadily to take in the scene before him. The room was a vision out of his nightmares, and he shut his eyes briefly. He suspected that he was in the slave pits of Tortuga. That threat had been his enemy’s parting shot before knocking him senseless.

A groan not his own made him open his eyes again, and this time he attempted to get a good look around him. It wasn't really possible; his head was swimming with pain and it was very dark, but he was able to get some impressions. Wherever he was, it wasn't man made originally, but man had taken advantage. Irregular walls with no sunlight, combined with the damp musty air and the chill seeping into his aching body suggested a cave, but the large iron bars across the only visible exit told him very clearly what they were being used for. By whom was the question left begging.

Whoever it was wasn't too concerned about their guests' comfort, Blair Sandburg thought with a wince as some rancid hay was crushed under his cheek. The smell and texture made him wince. He didn't want to think what his black breeches and white linen shirt looked like, not after being through a sea battle and then this place's lack of even rudimentary hygiene. He fought to open his eyes again, when another low moan carried across the echoing cavern. Peering around, he saw that he was sharing his accommodations with four other men, two white and two dark. All appeared to be taking advantage of the quiet time to get some rest and were sleeping in the near dark of the cave. He didn't know who was making the noise that had woken him in the first place, as he appeared to be the only one injured, but he supposed bad dreams were par for the course in a place such as this.

It was near dark only because of the torches burning just outside the barred wall. The foul-smelling torches actually looked to be the only light, and they weren't there for the comfort of the prisoners. No, it seemed they had been placed there to better help the guards watch over their captives. If they had a mind to do so in the first place, that is. Blair gathered their escaping wasn't really that large a concern as the hallway appeared to be empty of life, and Blair could only surmise that they were alone for the night.

Blair rolled to his side and winced when he felt something move within him and pain lance down his chest. An involuntary moan slipped from his lips as he attempted to adjust and relax in his new position. He attempted to breathe shallowly until his heart could slow.

He nearly screamed when he opened his eyes and found himself staring into the coolest blue eyes he had ever seen before. Most probably English, the man was larger than most of his countrymen, and Blair suspected he was from a more well-to-do class of the country from the fabrics that made up the rags his captivity had reduced his clothes to. Leaning over Blair, the man laid a hand over his mouth to stifle his scream before it attracted the wrong kind of attention. Blair looked into the eyes of the man who held him subdued on the floor and saw his intention wasn't to cause fear. That allowed Blair to regain his composure and signal to his reluctant captor that he once again had himself under control.

The hand over his mouth was removed and then, as if he'd never been interrupted by Blair's embarrassing reaction, the large man with the piercing blue eyes again shifted to his original position leaning over Blair, his hands reaching for areas where Blair really wished not to be touched anytime in the near future as he asked, "How bad is the pain?"

Blair drew in a breath that caught about halfway and then stuttered back out painfully. Taking a second breath, shallower this time, he said, "I only know it hurts."

The man nodded, his face pinched in an expression of commiseration. He let his hand lightly drift over Blair's body, but it wasn't light enough; Blair still broke into a clammy, cold sweat and started to shiver uncontrollably from the pain. A whimper broke from his lips without his leave and the hands flinched to a stop where they were on his body.

"I'll try not to hurt you too much, boy, but it can't be avoided entirely. Not if I am to know how extensive the damage is." The voice was harsh, but not unkind for all that. Blair licked his dry lips and nodded. The hands resumed their gentle, but still painful exploration. One pushed over a spot on his ribcage that gave more than anywhere else and he yelped involuntarily while his erstwhile doctor grimaced.

A voice called out from the corner, startling Blair. "So, how bad is the lad? I assume no worse from your tender mercies, Sourpuss."

'Sourpuss' glowered over in the direction the voice had come from, and shook his head. "Kelso, it's a wonder you are still alive with that mouth." Kelso started to drag himself over in their direction, and Blair noted with horrified cognizance that he was crawling because his legs were gone from the mid-thigh. Meanwhile, his companion started to list his injuries to the other man, "He appears to have a cracked rib, but thankfully none are broken. The arm was out of its socket, but it was easy enough to put back before he came to. As long as it's kept still it should heal with no troubles. But whoever brought him here, well they dealt none too gently with him when doing so."

Kelso had finally reached them by the end of the recital and he casually reached out a hand, to first cup Blair’s cheek, and then to place it across his forehead. "Well, there's no fever, so we have something more to be thankful for as well."

Blair made a small sound as Kelso smiled widely down into his face, eyes sparkling. "Hola, kid. My name's Jack Kelso. The sourpuss who looked you over is James Ellison. Over there, in the far reaches of our spacious cell here, is Henri - a darky from the Port Royal area - and... well, that other fella... oh, that other fella hasn't been too friendly so I ain't got a name fer him. I can tell ya he's all the way from Africanland, and he's a big grouch. Anyway, who're you?"

Blair was a bit stunned by the barrage of information. "Blair." he answered softly in reflex, but then he went to shift position and the blood drained from his face as his injuries reasserted themselves with a vengeance. James shifted him gently to his other side, away from his cracked rib, and he felt able to breathe once again. He sighed in relief. Jack smiled and stroked his face once. “Rest, boy. There’s time enough for getting to know each other. We have at least another few weeks before we are sold.”

Blair blinked, his gaze focusing and unfocusing rapidly. “Where are we?”

Jack sat back a bit, his legs — what was left of them — sticking out in front of him. “Tortuga. We’ve been here a while now. But I think they’ve enough for a proper auction.”

“Tortuga,” muttered Blair as he struggled with consciousness. “Is that far from Leogane?”

Jack blinked and leaned forward, “Why do you ask, boy?”

Blair shook his head and asked again, “Is that far? Could a ship get from there to here quickly enough?”

Jack drummed his fingers on his thighs. “You know not much of sailing, do you, boy? Aye, it would take a ship a few days only to make the journey.”

Blair smiled and began to relax. “Then there is time.” He closed his eyes to sleep, only to be woken again by James’ question.

“Time for what?”

“Délivrance…” Blair muttered weakly as he rested against the strong knees at his back.

James leaned in close to hear him, “Deliverance. Who would come to free you?”

“Scarlett…”

o-O-o

The white tattered sails of the Sloop of War Scarlett, hung from worn rope in broken rigging. Fires smoldered here and there on the deck as men struggled to contain water spilling into the hull from a gaping hole in her side.

Joel Taggert, Quartermaster of the Scarlett’, stood at the helm, his keen eyes assessing the damage and taking note of the losses to the ship. The Navigator and Gunner were both dead, as well as fifteen men of the crew. They still had Master Eli Stoddard, the Surgeon, and Master Earl Gaines, the Carpenter. Both men had skills that allowed them to work in other areas of the ship as well.

Since the peaceful death of Master Johnson, the duties of Cook had been rotated through various members of the crew. And now they had lost their Captain, Jacob Sandburg, just days before.

The loss of Captain Sandburg was due to the pirate, Garrett Kincaid, Captain of the Sunrise Patriot. The Scarlett had been attacked in broad daylight, rushed by the Patriot until she struck aground, right outside the port of Leogane. Many sailors lost their lives, but only one had been kidnapped by Kincaid.

That one young man was Blair Sandburg, the Captain’s own son, who had only joined them four months ago. He was unused to the sea, and had wanted to sail with his father and crew, but now he was gone. Though not forgotten.

Even now, Joel had sent spies into the taverns of Leogane and other ports of call that the Patriot could have visited since its vicious attack. It was Joel’s hope that the kidnapping of the boy was meant as humiliation towards the Scarlett, and that he was not indeed dead, as Joel feared.

If Joel’s spies found word of the boy, he would sail the ship to the ends of the earth and beyond to see the lad safely back on board. She was young Sandburg’s ship now, and he had already expressed a desire to follow in his father’s footsteps. With luck and learned skill, the Scarlett very well could continue her mission of keeping the waters of the Caribbean safe for travelers and treasure fleets.

But first, they would have to find young Mr. Sandburg.

o-O-o

When Blair woke next there was nothing terribly new to see. He rolled over gently, wondering what it was that had woken him, and came nose to nose with James Ellison. With a tiny involuntary squeak of alarm, Blair scuttled backwards away from the man's admittedly welcoming warmth, only to be halted in his panicked flight abruptly when he suddenly hit the wall behind their resting place. Ow.

James opened his eyes and looked over towards Blair. “Sorry. You looked cold.”

Blair blinked confusedly until his body reported in to protest his sudden movement and he groaned softly. James immediately came to his side and adjusted his position, manipulating him gently until he was sitting up with his back against the wall. “You shouldn’t have moved.”

“You startled me,” was Blair’s miserable reply.

James left his side and soon returned with a bowl of what Blair could only surmise was porridge along with a small hunk of bread. Blair attempted not to vomit at the smell. He knew he would have to eat, but he was certain it would not sit on his stomach so well.

Jack must have been thinking the same thing as, from across the room, he called out, “Better to pour a bit of water into it, make it a gruel. I ‘spect the young master might not have the stomach for something that thick.”

James stopped a moment, then nodded as he added in some water and stirred the porridge. When it was little more than a watery imitation of what it had once been, he helped Blair to sip some of it. Amazingly enough, it stayed down better than he had thought.

“Merci,” Blair thanked the older man when he had eaten all he could stomach. James nodded once as he set the bowl to the side.

“Ce n’est rein,” answered the Englishman as he gently pulled the younger man back against him, taking pressure off of the damaged rib. In bewilderment, Blair looked James in the eye.

“You speak French, sir?” he asked. James shrugged.

“I know enough to be understood in polite society. And you?” James smiled.

Blair decided he liked it when James smiled. He blushed as he realized the turn of his thoughts and glanced across the room. He wasn't really looking at anything in particular but thinking. His mother had run into no end of difficulty for following her heart, and that had been a liaison between a man and a woman; what he was contemplating just wasn't thought or done. He decided that silence was safer, at least between him and James. Then he realized where he had been staring while he woolgathered and blushed.

Jack Kelso on the other hand was amused.

He'd been watching the two of them with more than a little interest, and when the younger of the two stared blankly in his direction for so long, he was sure he knew what Sandburg was thinking about. He wasn't going to call him on it though, but maybe he could reassure him in another way -- or at the very least, distract him.

Jack thumped his thighs with his fists and called out, "Were ya wonderin' what happened? Why I'm like I am?"

Blair's blush heated further and he looked away while demurring, "Oh no, I would never pry...."

"Bah," Jack scoffed. "It's not prying when I'm offering to tell ya."

Nobody could dispute that and so Jack happily settled in to regal his literally captive audience with his adventures, "Lost these legs nigh on ten years past. The name of the ship I sailed ‘twere no consequence, she’s long since settled to the bottom of the sea. I was younger then, but far wiser of the sea than you would think. I had become a pirate at a young age, the only way to avoid death. But I had taken a liking to it, right enough.”

Blair settled in against James’ side as he listened to Jack warm to his story. “It was a rather spectacular battle. Our ship against the Sunrise Patriot, sailed by Garrett Kincaid.”

Blair shivered and James, apparently mistaking it for a protest against the cold, shifted to better warm the young man. If Jack noticed the shaking, he kept it to himself and continued the story. “I was up in the crow’s nest when they hit the mast with grapeshot that took out a lot of the rigging and the sails. I fell, got wrapped up in the lines. Somewhere along the way I fell to the deck of the ship. When I woke up, it was to find myself adrift on some of the decking. God alone knows how I survived.”

“Did the rigging take your legs, sir?” asked one of the dark ones. Jack shook his head, and continued with his story. There was a devilish twinkle in his eye as he did so.

"Oh nay, lad, that would've been rather prosaic for a sailor wouldn't it? Nay, what took my legs were the sharks! See when I was floating there in the sea on that bit of decking, the scavengers of deep had come calling and decided I was a man of very good taste," Jack laughed as all the men around him groaned at his bad humor. "What? They nibbled a bit and then when I turned out to be too much for them, left me alone to be picked up by another ship."

The very large and dark man in the back of the cave grunted, "So it was the rigging, or the fall, that took your legs. Bad luck, but at least it was only the lower sections and you're not dead."

Jack scowled. "If you have to be precise, then yes, it was the rigging snapping both legs in two, but I like my version better."

Henri whistled with a combination of envy and foreboding, "You are lucky indeed to be alive, to have lived through something like that also, I think. My life hasn't been anywhere near that exciting. I was content with my lot though. I lived with my family, until they could not pay the taxes the corrupt governor demanded. I wanted to help them so I ran away to seek my fortune. Unfortunately, that led me here."

"And it's not your family's coffers that your sale will enrich." The larger black man rumbled from his place against the back wall. Henri's lips tightened, but he said nothing.

Blair reached out a hand to Henri. “I feel for you, my friend. I too have been separated from my family by unfortunate circumstance.”

Henri smiled and the white of his teeth was blinding in the gloom of the cell. “We play the cards we are dealt, eh my friend?”

Jack chuckled and Blair nodded as he snuck a peek over to the bitter-looking man in the back of the cave. Jack had mentioned that he thought the man had come from Africa, but he hadn't said how he came by the information. The man hadn't ventured out into the main part of the cell at all, at least not when any of his cellmates were awake, and Blair wondered what had made the man so bitter. Was it just being taken away from his homeland, or was it more? Blair shrugged; it wasn't likely he would find out so it was probably best that he leave it alone.

James was another mystery to him: such a learned man here in the slave pits of Tortuga. Blair wondered how that had come to be. Had he been kidnapped from his sailing vessel and brought here to die? Had he been off to seek his fortune on the high seas only to fall in his quest for adventure? Again, Blair left it alone. If the man wished to share, he would do so in his own time.

Shifting from his current position, Blair laid his head on the ground once again, hoping to get a bit more sleep. James moved with him, keeping his thigh under Blair’s head to act as a pillow, one hand stroking his thick curls as he began to drift off.

He was almost asleep when Jack finally asked the question he had been dreading. “So, boy, who be Scarlett, and how is it you believe her to be your rescue?”

Blair bit his lower lip, wondering what to tell the pirate. He opened his mouth to answer. “She… the Scarlett is a ship, sir.”

Jack’s eyes widened in surprise. “Nay, do tell... ye sailed with that silver tongued devil his'self, Captain Jake Sandburg of the Scarlett?”

Blair nodded miserably, “Oui, he is mon Pere."

Jack’s gaze narrowed as he looked Blair over from head to toe. “You got your daddy’s face, no doubt. I was trying to place them blue eyes. I met Jake only the once, over a card game in Nepal. I was glad that he didn’t know me for a pirate then. It was my last such shipping, too. I took to the Spring Maiden afterwards, as a straight man.”

James shifted slightly under Blair. “I take it Captain Sandburg is a pirate hunter?”

Jack nodded, a smile on his lips. “Aye. And as gentlemanly a privateer as you’d ever meet on land, be he. Would that I were given the chance, I’d fly under the Scarlett’s colors with pride.”

“Mayhap,” began James, “You could have that chance again. If they do come after the boy, that is.”

Jack stared long into the eyes of Blair Sandburg. “Aye, mayhap… if by chance the Scarlett does indeed still swim… and that she arrive in time, I just might at that."

Blair said nothing as he closed his eyes to sleep. In the back of his mind, he prayed that Joel and the others would come for him soon. If they were even alive.

o-O-o

It was dark night when a quiet voice came from the side of Scarlett, “Ahoy, the ship!”

Earl Gaines cast a glance over the side, smiling as he caught sight of the speaker. He turned away to the aft deck where Quartermaster Taggert spoke with Mr. Stoddard, and shouted back to him. “Mr. van Ryf has returned, sir. And he has brought a present.” The dark skinned carpenter smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

Taggart raised an eyebrow as he came down from the helm. “Well then, Mr. Gaines. Don’t just stand there. Give the man an assist!”

Gaines nodded and reached over the gunwale to haul up an unwieldy bundle with the assistance of Rafe van Ryf. A last burst of strength had him dropping the heavy bag of rags across the gunwale, where it made a curious 'oof' sound. He balanced it there long enough to help Rafe climb up after his cargo. Then when the graceful man jumped aboard and on deck with the ease of an acrobat, Rafe grabbed the bundle up, dragged it the few steps to where Taggart stood and threw it at his feet.

Joel looked with some amusement at the young man he'd sent out to gather intelligence. The bundle at his feet began to squirm, and muffled curses were yelled out through many layers. He asked mildly, "Well Mr. van Ryf, what have you brought for us tonight?”

Rafe smiled as he casually walked over to the bundle and yanked it upright. “Well, Mr. Taggert sir, you have been saying you needed a new figurehead for the ship. I thought I’d pick one up for us.” And so saying, he pulled out his dagger and made short work of the ropes holding the bundle closed. The contents spilled onto the boards to land at Taggert’s feet again with a tremendous ‘Ooooof!’ and a smattering of even more disparaging curses. It was one Lee Brackett, sometime friend of Garrett Kincaid, who lay sprawled on the deck before them.

Taggert laughed out loud. Kincaid’s most trusted informant, on their ship. How delightful.

“Welcome to the Scarlett, Mr. Brackett. No doubt you will be surprised to note that she yet sails,” Taggert boomed as he stepped closer to the informant. Brackett gazed around in obvious shock. “As you can see, the reports on our pretty little vessel's untimely demise have been exaggerated.”

“So it would seem,” sputtered Brackett. Apparently he had been led to believe that Scarlett had met her end in the battle. She was now proof that Kincaid had failed. “So, if the Scarlett yet sails, then perhaps her Captain…?”

Taggert said nothing. Rafe and Gaines each stepped forward, the better to control the informant should he attempt to bolt. Taggert glared at the man, “Mr. Brackett, I am in need of information. And since you are in the business of information brokerage, I thought we might have a little discussion.”

Brackett shivered at the sharp-toothed smile that Taggert sent his way, and swallowed a couple of times as well. It would seem that he was uncertain as to his status should he give up any information to the men of the Scarlett. Taggert went about setting him straight.

“Mr. Brackett, rest assured, if you give me the information I seek, no harm will come to you. You will keep your hide intact.” Stepping closer, practically nose to nose with the other man, Taggert’s voice dropped to a deathly low octave. ”Should you not provide me with the whereabouts of the pirate Garrett Kincaid of the Sunrise Patriot or the boy, Blair Sandburg… I will have you roped, tied and keel hauled as we set out of this port…. Am I understood?”

Brackett truly began to stutter as he felt the kiss of Rafe’s knife steal up across his neck and Gaines slowly began to tie a rope around his wrists from behind. Finally, after much sputtering and stammering, Brackett’s words began to become recognizable. “Tort-t-t-tug-g-g-a… He… he… Kin-c-c-caid… Took the boy to Tortuga… he means to sell him in the slave auctions!”

Taggert swore to the four winds as he rounded on the hapless informant. “Where is that black-hearted swine now?” he bellowed with rage. Brackett nearly hit his knees, his body shaking with the effort to concentrate. Rafe’s knife never wavered and Brackett forced his eyes to meet Taggert’s.

“He waits for word at Santiago. He expects the sale to happen in another few weeks.” Bracket took in great gulps of air when he felt the knife removed and his hands untied. Taggert turned his back on the trio, but his words were easy to hear, “Thank you, Mr. Brackett. I trust that your information is on the level… if it is not, we shall meet again.”

Brackett said not a word as he was hauled to his feet once more. Before he could ask what was to be done with him, Taggert chuckled lightly before tossing over his shoulder, “Mr. Gaines… there appears to be rubbish on my deck… see to it.”

“As you say, sir,” replied Gaines and a moment later there was a cursed yelp of surprise followed by a deep, watery splash over the side of the boat. Taggert paid it no mind, turning for the upper deck and preparing to issue orders.

“Mr. Stoddard, plot us a course for Santiago. We have business to attend to. Mr. Gaines, please be sure that the Scarlett can get there. Mr. van Ryf, you deserve a night’s rest; see that you get it. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have other business to attend to.” So saying, he left the deck, slipping into the Captain’s quarters. There, on the desk, lay the personal belongs of Joel’s best friend. He sat at the desk, and spoke to the portrait that the dead man had commissioned for his son’s birthday.

“Jacob, I am truly sorry. This was no one’s fault but Kincaid’s and we mean to bring him to justice over it. Rest assured, old friend, I have not and will not give up on your son. This is his heritage and his estate. I will spend my last breath supporting that boy, mark me. And once I have captured your killer, I will rescue your child. You have my word.”

Joel Taggert did not rest easy that night. He wished, not for the first time, that they had been able to send the man on to his final resting place with his son there to observe and offer his own prayer, but time had been against them there. Instead, these few mementos, his pocket watch, saber and pistol, were all they had to pass on to the young man that they had only met four months prior. Resting his head on the top of the desk Joel sighed, vowing to only shut his eyes for a moment; he knew in the morning he was going to have to start on his self appointed task of putting his chosen family back together. He never even felt it when he slipped into sleep.

o-O-o

It had been two weeks since Blair had been captured and placed in the cell with James and the others. As far as they could determine at any rate having to use the shift changes of the guards to calculate the passage of time since daylight wasn't something they saw in the cave system where they were being held.

James watched Blair as he moved cautiously from one corner of the cave to another. The movements were awkward due to the improvised bandaging, (they had used the remains of James' fine cotton shirt, ripped into strips) to hold his relocated shoulder in place and support his ribs. He was healing well, and James had faith that Blair was going to make a full recovery, but it was going to take time.

Their accommodations were another story and they were only going to get worse with time. It was a cave, with all the awful things that living in a cave entailed. It was damp, chilly and the foul stench of the latrine hung around like a living miasma. It was a miserable experience, one that James hadn't been too interested in surviving... at least not until Blair had arrived.

Blair Sandburg -- he of the dancing blue eyes, the soft dark curls, the gentle smile and lilting French accent. His steady heartbeat soothed James' nerves in the evenings and awakened him in the mornings. His warm hands softly stroked over James' wrinkled brow and chased away the pain every time his curse came upon him. It was something he'd been living with since as far back as he could remember, how scents would suddenly overpower him, sounds incapacitate, tastes nauseate, and sight and touch would also become too much to control.

James returned his attention to the object of his thoughts as Blair gingerly sat beside him again. They were in a less used area of the cave, a place James came to in order to protect himself from the screams and other various sounds and scents from the other cells off the corridor. [Not] He wasn’t denying the reality, but doing his best to distance himself from the things that naturally occurred when men were forced to share such close quarters against their will. Blair leaned against James and sighed. “How long are we to endure this… hell?”

James lifted his arm, allowing Blair to slide in closer to him, and gently stroked down the too thin arm of his companion. “Jack asked the guards that same question. They say a week more, maybe two, before the auction begins.”

Blair shuddered against him and James turned slightly, bringing the other man closer to his warmth. He was ever concerned that the younger man would freeze to death before his friends had a chance to rescue him. Blair laid his head against James’ chest. As he sighed again, the hot breath from his lips skated across James’ exposed skin, causing a rush of feeling through his sense of touch and sparking something deep within him.

“I pray Mr. Taggert and the others still care…” Blair muttered. James leaned back a bit to see the pale face in the dim lighting, bright blue eyes awash in misery, mouth set in a hard line. After a half thought, James leaned forward and kissed the frown-lined forehead.

“Worry not, Blair. I am certain those good men from your father’s ship will come for you. Why should they not?” Blair looked at James with shock widened eyes. Then his gaze flicked away to stare at the wall behind the bigger man. Whatever he was seeing in his mind’s eyes, he appeared loath to share with his new companions. But, here, James hoped that Blair would open up himself just a little. He appeared to be in desperate need of release.

Blair must have finally found the answers he sought within himself as he nestled down into the shelter of James’ arms. “I was not a child conceived through marriage.”

Blair seemed to be waiting for a reaction so James shrugged, as if to say ‘What of it?’ about the statement, encouraging Blair to continue his story with his silence. Blair looked searchingly into the older man's eyes, as if he could see where James' true emotions laid. After about fifteen beats of a heart he appeared satisfied and spoke again. "My mother said that it was love that brought her and Jacob Sandburg together, and love that brought me into this world -- something Jacob, my father, also said when he finally found me six months ago."

Then a bitter little sound escaped from the young man and James looked down, equal parts concerned and curious. Blair, seeing this explained, “Oh, just thinking that my coming to be was certainly not due to my Maman’s family. They’d wanted to send her away to a convent after it had been found out she’d been… despoiled. I was, of course, to be gotten rid of by the most expeditious means possible. My Maman, well, she refused. She wasn’t about to follow their plan for her life, not when she was ashamed of nothing. She'd loved my father and wanted me; nothing was going to sway her on that, so they turned her out."

“Sounds like she was a strong woman, your mother. You do her proud with your own strength and convictions.” James replied before kissing the top of the young man’s head again. Blair stretched out a bit until he was plastered across James’ chest, his breath warm against James’ neck. With gentle hands James stroked the young man’s back and sides, mentally urging him to relax.

Blair laughed, thinking of his mother. "She looked like a dainty person, my Maman, but she carried within her an inner strength that would not break, and a fire that lit up my world."

James smiled down at the young man in his arms, glad to see him thinking of something happier than their situation. Blair smiled back and something like lightning seemed to pass between them. Blair dropped his eyes, then glanced shyly back up to the older man, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. James' eyes followed that pink tongue, his own slipping out to wet his own lips which had inexplicably gone dry. His sharp blue eyes lanced through the darkness to trace with an almost physical touch the full curve of the younger man's lush lips. Wet now and glistening, they called to James. Without a conscious thought, James obeyed. He leaned in close and captured them with his own, gently teasing them apart to delve inside as Blair gasped. He needed very little encouragement to surge forward and begin the in depth exploration of the other man's mouth, sweet despite the staleness of the food they had been given. Blair wasn't passive in their endeavors either; he was just as aggressive and passionate about taking his pleasure from James.

The fire that rose up in James’ belly caught him by surprise, but was more than welcome. The sensation of holding the younger man, of touching him and tasting him was all consuming. Blair’s hands clutched at his clothing, bunching material out of the way so that he could explore every inch of skin available, first with his hands and then with his mouth and tongue. As James was just wearing a jacket after sacrificing his shirt for bandages, this proved to be very easily done. James was nearly left behind by the exuberance that Blair exhibited in getting to know his bedmate.

Finally James sought to turn the tables on his lover, taking hold of his head and guiding him back up for another scorching kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. With grazing hands and wandering fingers, James found places that sent the young man into near frenzy. As Blair attacked James’ nipples with his agile tongue, James knew his only recourse was to hold on for the ride of his life. His fingers carded through Blair’s thick curls as he murmured and moaned.

One hand, Blair’s, slipped down into James’ breeches and he knew all was lost as he shoved up into the tight grip. “Oh God!”

A snicker from his lover caused him to glare down into guileless eyes and he gasped. Such heat, so much desire burned in those eyes that he had originally thought of as cool, their intensity now though more like that of a white hot coal. He shut his own against that heat, giving himself over completely to the hands of this young, yet obviously experienced man. In the back of his mind, he realized that Blair’s mother may have passed on more than her big heart to her son. Perhaps her ability to love and desire, even in the face of great hardship, seemed to have come through as well. It was his last coherent thought before his absolute surrender into love.

o-O-o

James woke in the pre-dawn to find that his bedmate had moved. Looking around for him briefly, Jim soon saw where he had gone. Blair was making his shaky way towards the small corner of the cave that served as the latrine. Watching with a vigilant eye as the young man progressed in case of a mishap; James came face to face with Jack Kelso. He felt the heat of a blush creep up his cheeks. Jack must have been awake last night while James and Blair....

Jack just shook his head. “Pay you no mind to the genteel man’s social graces out here, James, my boy. You can’t deny attraction even if it’s unconventional, you take comfort and solace where you find it.” Jack whispered in the darkness.

Henri nodded sagely from his corner of the cave, and the other dark one looked away with a hand over his eyes as if to say ‘I see nothing, therefore nothing is…’ James sighed as he felt the tightness in the center of his chest ease up a bit more. He had forgotten in the heat of their passion how little privacy they had there for a while, he was gratified that it wasn't going to cause he and Blair any trouble.

When Blair was finished, he came back to their corner of the cave and crawled back under James’ arm, snuggling into the warmth that he could find there. The cave became silent once more.

James lost himself in following the younger man's body rhythms for a time so it could have been just a few minutes, or it could have been hours later that Blair began to question him quietly. “James… why would a man such as you be here?”

James didn't answer right away; instead he peered around in the darkness to see what their [enforced] companions were doing. Henri was slumped against the wall asleep, mumbling to himself and drooling rather unattractively. Jack Kelso was asleep as well, flat on his back and snoring, none too softly either. The last one, James couldn't make him out; he'd managed to move deep enough into the shadows that he was indistinguishable from them.

James rolled over gently until he lay on his back, dragging Blair with him to lie across his ample chest. He stroked a hand through lank curls, his other hand holding the young man against him. “Your mother’s family turned her out when she was… despoiled…” Blair nodded, shamefaced. James stroked a finger down Blair’s jaw, lifting his chin so that they looked each other in the eyes once more. “My family turned me out when it was clear that I was… cursed.”

Blair narrowed his gaze. “What is this curse you speak of?” James gazed deeply into the beautiful blue eyes before him, and felt for the first time that someone might understand him. He stroked the hair beneath his hand again.

“When I was a young boy… I walked my father’s estates often. One afternoon, I strayed too far into the forest and became lost. It took me a couple of days to find my way, but suddenly I could smell the food in the kitchens. That is what finally led me home.” James paused for a moment, letting the memory drift back and then away again. Blair waited patiently. “Years went by and I had trouble with all of my senses. Once I made the mistake of telling a friend of my father that his horse was dying. I could smell the disease in it. The horse was very expensive. My father was considering buy it from him.”

“What did your father do?” asked Blair. James shrugged.

“He told me that young men who knew nothing about horseflesh should keep their opinions to themselves. And bought the horse.” James paused, “It died a week later.”

James shrugged again as Blair watched his expression. “You said nothing to your father,” Blair guessed in understanding. James nodded once. He had remained silent about his senses after the loss of the horse. But it was much too late then.

“I was sent from the Colonies to England, and placed in a boarding school there. I was encouraged to ignore the curse of my senses, push them aside.” James glanced at the shadows again as he spoke. There was still no movement from the last man. He was interrupted in his musings by Blair.

“What could they have been thinking?” Blair’s growled, obviously taken aback by this turn of events. “To send you away as too unseemly to be seen in their presence. You were but a child. Where was your Maman’s voice in all of this?”

“My Mother died many years before, from a fever… my Father was displeased with my performance in school… and my senses still gave me much trouble as I grew up… finally he decided that he would disown me. Better to have only one son to carry on the family business, rather than have to carry along a millstone about his neck. He was concerned that I would try to come back and claim my inheritance in the future after he'd disowned me and made my younger brother his sole heir, so he arranged to have me sold.” The matter-of-fact telling of his past wasn't being related in a way to elicit sympathy, but he guessed Blair felt it because his blue eyes were shining with unshed tears.

A rumbling from the darkest corner startled them both. “Warrior has a gift, not a curse… father was fool… will never be called to justice for the betrayal…”

James peered in the darkness until he could see the African. “This is no gift I would keep, my friend.”

The man snorted once. “You fear that which you do not understand. Enekpe favors you, Warrior, one day you will see her wisdom. Perhaps sooner rather than later, as you have already been given and accepted one of your rewards..."

At James’ confused expression, the man nodded his chin towards Blair, his intent clear in his eyes. James stiffened for a moment, and then he relaxed. Blair fell asleep, wrapped up in James’ arms and the cave again became silent. Henri and Jack hadn't stirred during the whole exchange and now the large dark skinned man reimmersed himself into his shadows to sleep as well. James himself could not sleep, his thoughts sliding through memories in the early morning twilight.

o-O-o

Santiago glowed from a hundred torch lamps in the midnight hours. There was no moon in the sky and the waters remained calm. Out on the water, the Sunrise Patriot floated in total darkness. Her watchman scanned the inky black, finding nothing untoward in the dead night. The knife that suddenly appeared at his throat told him differently, but he had no time to shout warning. The silence was so complete, even his 'urk' went unheard by the men sleeping in the hold below.

There were three other watchmen, which included the man in the crow's nest. They too never had a chance of making a sound, so skilled and stealthy were their assailants. When all aboard had been subdued, they were finally given the chance to face their captors.

Joel Taggert took center stage as Kincaid was brought out, spitting out curses and threatening dire retribution on anyone handling him. He was silenced as he was tossed to the deck at the black quartermaster’s feet. “Well, well… Garrett Kincaid, in the flesh… Not so high and mighty when your own tactics are turned against you, eh?”

Kincaid stared up at Taggert, his bright blue eyes wide within his pale, stubbled face. “You’re still alive…”

Taggert raised an eyebrow. “So your orders were to kill all, eh? Hard to find decent help these days, is it Kincaid?”

Kincaid spat on the deck at Taggert’s feet, which did not move the big man in the least. For all his posturing, Garrett Kincaid was a useless human being with no skill at leading men and no real worth except as a barnacle scrubber. Taggert glanced around the deck, seeing the faces of the crew gazing back at him. He was tempted to slice the lot of them, but for one thing… it was not what Jake Sandburg… or his son, Blair… would have wanted.

Without another concern for Kincaid, Taggert turned and headed for the side of the ship where his longboat sat tied. He picked three men of his crew and pointed towards the men on the deck. “Take the youngest men; put them to work sailing the ship out to sea. Wait for us there.”

The rest of the crew tossed the bound men into the hold, but for a few choice young men who had only boarded the ship since it arrived in Santiago two weeks prior. With the enemy secured and the Patriot ready to sail, the Scarlett’s men slipped back over the side of the boat and returned to her decks and sails, pointing her bow for Tortuga to reclaim her lost lamb.

o-O-o

Blair jerked to wakefulness at the clanging of the bell at the end of the corridor. Snarling guards began to wake the slaves by poking sticks in through the bars and jostling their victims awake. James gently rolled so that Blair was between him and the wall. Jack rolled himself closer to the wall opposite the bars. Henri and the other dark one tensed as they shifted from their seated positions to crouch facing the bars.

“Today is the day, perhaps?” asked Blair fearfully. He had hoped to be rescued by now, but he was fast believing that Taggert and the others could very well be dead. The auction could begin at any time, and if he were sold, it would be beyond too late. James tightened his hold on the younger man’s arms.

“Faith, my friend. We are not marked and sold yet.” Blair gazed deeply into the blue eyes of his companion. James smiled weakly. “If our dark friend is to be believed, I and you are here for a purpose. What it could be is anyone’s guess… but if the goddess he calls Enekpe does favor me, she would not let us down now.”

Blair pitched back a tremulous smile at his friend’s words and they both rose to their feet. Jack reached out and snagged the young man’s pants leg. “Boy, when your chance comes, you aim for the docks… worry not for anyone else… race for the docks.”

Blair made as if to protest this order, but James and Henri nodded, and even the other dark man’s serious expression could not be ignored. Blair slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement as the guards came to their holding cell to unlock the gate.

o-O-o

Rafe van Ryf and Earl Gaines brought their pack of men as close to the slave pens as possible without being seen. They heard the clanging of the bell indicating the slave auction was about to begin, and knew that Lady Luck was indeed on their side. They signaled instructions to the crew they had brought for this part of the job, and the team split up.

Over the roofs between them and the docks, they kept a weathered eye for the bright red war sails of the Scarlett. As the first stirrings of the slaves caught their attention, they moved forward with knives, swords and pistols at the ready.

o-O-o

Blair kept his friends between himself and the guards as the door slammed open with a resounding clang. James winced at the reverberation, but a hand on his elbow from Blair must have set him to right, as he straightened quickly, his eyes fixed firmly on one guard in particular.

“Right, hands out so’s we can chain ya,” called one guard. James stepped forward first, his hands out to receive his chains. Henri and the other dark one waited off to the side. The attack was swift and fleeting as the first cuff closed and hung on James’ wrist. He whipped it around to wrap about the guard’s neck, choking the life out of him. The other guard attempted to come in and stop the attack, but Henri and the dark one together subdued that guard as well, keeping the gate wide open. Other slaves began to yell for freedom.

“Here, boy, unlock gates as you go!” Jack called as he snagged the fat ring of keys from one of the guards and flipped them back to Blair. Blair made no reply but was out of the cell like a shot, favoring his side, but stopping every so often to unlock a door or two. Finally the keys were plucked from his hand by another prisoner who shoved him off towards the open sky.

“Run, boy! Get out of here!” yelled the man. Blair never looked back. He pushed his way with other prisoners towards the main gates, only to be stopped and shoved against a wall when they found their escape blocked by five guards with swords. There were other guards behind them and Blair felt the first strains of panic fill him.

Suddenly there was a commotion from behind the guards and much yelling could be heard. The crowd of guards split in half, some trying to stop the attack from behind them, and the rest watching the prisoners before them. The prisoners held nothing back when they noted their jailers’ distraction. The fight was bloody as men fought for the swords and knives. A few men fell dead, most of them guards. Blair couldn’t help but look for his cell mates as he was shoved back towards the exit again.

At some point, Henri reached Blair again, with Jack Kelso on his back. James and the others were nowhere to be found and Blair worried. But he did as he had been told, racing for the exit and the clear light of day. Once they were outside, Jack pointed in the direction of the docks and they were off again.

“Blair!”

He spun around to find the voice and was faced with Rafe van Ryf. Ecstatically, he hugged his friend from the Scarlett.

“She’s here! The Scarlett is here!” Blair shouted joyfully. Rafe nodded enthusiastically even as he steered the group in the direction of the docks. Henri struggled with Jack’s weight, until the other man was mysteriously lifted from his back. Glancing behind him, he was met with other crewmen of the Scarlett who helped get them even further to the docks. Blair continued to look back, hoping to spy James and their other friend.

It seemed like forever before they reached the docks, where the Scarlett swooped in like a great red bird towards the pier. Ropes were thrown over the sides and Rafe shoved Blair towards one of them. He began to climb like a monkey, hand over hand. Other men snagged ropes, and some jumped in nearby long boats to row as far away from the port as they could get. Blair felt Scarlett shudder as the ship used her great guns against the port defenses.

Scarlett hardly slowed down as she rammed into port. She skimmed the pier and was already tacking sails for the race back out by the time Blair reached the deck. Henri joined him as did several other crewmen and former prisoners. Glancing over the side, Blair could see that Jack had been tossed into a longboat that was preparing to row out, the dark African grabbing an oar for the hard work. Scanning the pier, his heart in his throat, he searched for James.

Blair finally caught sight of James, welding a sword and slicing this way and that to reach the docks. He arrived as the last longboat pulled away, but was unable to board it for fear it would be overloaded.

Blair shook his head in denial. “JAMES!”

Hearing Blair's shout, Jack looked back, saw James, and grabbed up a rope lying in the bottom of the boat. With a practiced hand, he knotted the rope, looping it, and then prepared himself, calling to the man on the pier. “Hit the water, man! Swim for it!”

James reversed his grip on the sword and dove for the water. Blair held his breath as Jack threw the rope. With a quick jerk and a tug, James’s head came out of the water, the rope snagged round his chest and helping him stay afloat as the rowers pulled the oars.

The port's canons missed their targets, but the Scarlett didn't miss as she took out several guns along the edges of the port on her way out. All the long boats reached the Scarlett and men were pulled on board. James dropped on the deck, dripping wet, but it didn’t stop Blair from wrapping his arms around the sturdy shoulders and holding his friend tightly. “We did it, James. We made it!”

James chuckled heartily as he held the slim body of his friend, and mate. “We did indeed, mon ami. We are indeed free.”

o-O-o

Blair sat behind the great oak desk in his father’s cabin. Gazing at the few baubles and trinkets left behind, he sighed as he opened the pocket watch. He remembered seeing the chain worn by his father and had asked before what it held. Inside the large faced locket, a watch clicked away, on the opposite side was a small portrait of Blair’s mother. ‘My Scarlett Haired Beauty’ was inscribed on the back of the watch.

James watched from the shadows of the room, not wishing to intrude on this moment of solitude. Blair spoke into the quiet darkness, knowing that his love would hear him. “He was so surprised to see me, James,” muttered the orphan. "He hadn't known until we met that first time that I existed, said that if he had he never would have left my Maman behind.

“My Maman was a beautiful woman. And she had met my Pere at a social event. They danced, he wooed her, and she loved him. But then he was forced to leave England, resign his commission. He had been accused of sympathizing with the pirates here in the Caribbean. He left and went to France. Received his letter of marquee, and came here to capture pirates who were deemed uncapturable.”

 

James stepped forward to lay one hand on Blair’s shoulder. His silence remained as Blair struggled to come to terms. “He didn't know I was alive, James. Can you imagine? Finding out you had a son when he was nearly grown? He said that had he known, he would have come back for us. That I wouldn't have wanted for a father." James ran his fingers over the freshly washed curls, waiting for the moment when Blair finally could release his pain. Blair went on, “My Maman knew this. She raised me in a healthy environment filled with schooling and books. Then she was nearly forced by a nobleman… and died of illness soon after. I was left without direction.”

Blair turned into the warm arms that wrapped around him as James squatted next to him. Laying his head on his love’s shoulder, he cried silently for a moment. James soothed him through his tears, “Your father gave you a new direction.”

Blair smiled. “He gave me much more than that. He gave me a new family. The Scarlett is my home.”

James smiled with him. Blair laid a warm hand on James’ chest, his eyes beseeching in the near darkness. “Stay with me, mon amour?”

James’ smiled faltered as he translated the end of that request. Then it snapped back in place, brighter than ever. “I will stay with you, my love. Whither thou goest, there shall I be also.”

Blair’s eyes brightened as he leaned in and kissed his love.

o-O-o

Standing on deck, dressed in clean clothes, with his hair clean and flowing down his back, Captain Blair Sandburg gazed down at his enemy. Garrett Kincaid. Blair and a choice few other men of his crew stood in judgment over the cowardly attack, the death of Jacob Sandburg and the kidnapping of Blair.  
Kincaid stared back in disgust and snickered disrespectfully. “You intend for this whelp of a boy to pass judgment on us, Taggert?”

Joel Taggert feigned boredom as Kincaid spoke. None of the other crew members said a word as Blair tapped his foot. Finally Blair came to some sort of decision. “Garrett Kincaid, the charge of piracy carries a sentence of life imprisonment. Kidnapping is the same… but the charge of murder is a death sentence. For these crimes, your crew shall be ferried to the nearest French authorities for their trial and sentencing to be carried out.”

Kincaid’s jaw dropped as his crew was led off to be placed aboard the Sunrise Patriot, his own ship. The ship was now crewed by many of the prisoners who had escaped Tortuga, Jack Kelso in command. As they sailed off to bring their prisoners to justice, Blair turned back to Kincaid. “The charge of murder is on your head, mon ennemi. And as I have been given the authority to act as your judge, your sentence shall be carried out forthwith.”

With those words, Blair Sandburg turned his back on the man. Kincaid was hustled down amidships, stripped, bound hand and foot, tied to a long rope by the ankles, and tossed over the side. The rope played out as Kincaid’s body was dragged under the belly of the boat. Blair made no notice, nor did he shed a tear for the death of his father's killer.

o-O-o

Joel Taggert stood along with the rest of the men on the ship, gazing up to the aft deck where Blair Sandburg stood, huddled slightly against the wind. The young man kept his arms wrapped around himself to fight the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. James stepped up to stand behind him, wrapping him in warmth and love as they waited to hear what the crew had to say.

Eli Stoddard, acting surgeon and one of Jake Sandburg’s oldest friends, had been chosen to speak for the assembly and stepped forward. “Friends, brothers of the sea, I come before you to mourn the loss of a great and mighty sailor. A man who loved the sea, but not so much as he loved the one woman he lost. He once said to me, ‘Eli, would that I could go back and find her once again. Only Naomi understood me as well as the sea.’… Imagine my surprise the day young Mr. van Ryf and young Mr. Gaines returned to the ship while in port, with a small, curly haired waif, bold blue eyes peering out of such an innocent face. But the face was Jacob’s, and the heritage the boy brought with him told Jacob all he needed to know. His love had born fruit, and it was as if he had a second chance. Blair, my boy, you were loved even though you were not known. You were and are Jacob Sandburg’s son. And as such, this ship, and all who sail on her with you, are yours to command. Jacob wanted this. I am only glad you had even the short time given you by God, to know your father before he died.”

Joel, Rafe, Earl and the rest of the crew nodded their agreement. Henri, and the African who now called himself Simon, ducked their heads in respect. James squeezed the trembling shoulders as Blair stood silently still. After another few minutes spent in quiet reflection, Joel turned to Blair. “Well Captain… your orders?”

Blair shook himself slightly, James’ hands resting on his shoulders, and answered his quartermaster with firm certainty. “We sail for Port Royal, Mr. Taggert.”

Joel nodded and tuned, calling orders and snapping the men into work. James held his arms around Blair, and whispered in his ear. “You will do well, Blair.”

Blair smiled as he snuggled back into the greater warmth of his friend. “With you here, and the others to guard my back, I know I will make my Pere proud.”

The two men smiled as the Scarlett turned towards the setting sun, the orange ball guiding them towards their future.


End file.
